This evokes a few childhood seaside holidays in England, hopping over seaweed-slippery rocks, to play and paddle in rock pools. One such holiday was in a caravan near Hunstanton with our grandparents. I don’t remember seeing much of the sun, but I was happy to be on holiday. Another brighter holiday was in St Mawes in Cornwall where we stayed in a rented cottage near the sea front, and had one or two sailing lessons. I was really happy there, and bought a couple of trinkets in the local tourist shop.
‘Weed-slithered rocks … and barnacle-encrusted boulders.’
See also a quote-rich mosaic review of this magnificent, entrancing book: a love letter to islands and a paean to the sea.
Source: Adam Nicolson, Sea Room: An Island Life (London: Harper Collins, 2013 (2002)), p. 368